


After the Night

by danskwad



Category: Professional Wrestling, WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/F, Flashbacks Galore, Implied Sexual Content, Romance, Romantic Friendship, and backstory, and humor, drunk sex aftermath, there is angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-06-10 16:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15295329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danskwad/pseuds/danskwad
Summary: One night was all it took to test their friendship. But perhaps it wasn't meant to be just that. Eventual CharLynch.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time writing a WWE fic. It was a bit tough considering I had a hard time deciding whether to write it kayfabe-style or not. Idk, I kinda took a happy middle road? Or maybe not. I mean, what even is real life anymore honestly, especially when it comes to pro-wrestling? Anyways, here’s my disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, no libel is intended. I’m borrowing names and backgrounds for the sake of storytelling.

 

//

The first time I noticed something different between us, it was early in the morning and I had just woken up, alone in a bed. At least, I thought I was alone.

I looked around me, trying to get a bearing on my surroundings, but I was lost. I sat there thinking, _where did the night go? And where the hell am I?_ I tried to gather my thoughts, but they had escaped me for some reason. I felt only a thin sheet of warmth cover my naked body. On top of that I was having a raging headache. _Perfect,_ I thought. I must have had a lot to drink last night and decided to have some fun. In that moment, I was hoping and praying it didn’t bite me in the ass later. But I’d soon find out what its repercussions were.

The light slipping through the blinds were too bright for me to handle, but they were my only guide in this dark room. I wondered what time it was. With eyes still closed, I looked for my phone, absent beside me, and started to pat the bed around me. I felt something next to me, and I slipped my hand under the sheets to feel for it. I wasn’t expecting to feel long strands of hair on a pillow, but I held my thoughts in as soon as my eyes opened just ever so slightly. Quietly, I turned on the lamp next to me and saw the figure laying beside me.

It was an understatement to say I was surprised—that sharp intake of breath was more than enough of an indication of that. But the more I stared, the more the reality of it wasn’t going away. For too long I sat there, trying to understand—unable to think. And then slowly realizing what had transpired between myself and the person beside me now, who was sound asleep and softly snoring. I blinked heavily. There was no denying it. That unmistakable, orange-fire, red hair gave it away.

“Oh shit,” was the first thing I said.

\

There were some things I just had to retrace from the past several weeks—it was how I coped with reality. And what had led me to the present, and my current dilemma now.

My latest memory of that night was that there was a party. But it wasn’t just any party. That night, management was celebrating and the company decided to host a huge party for everyone. A recent big TV deal with the company was apparently the reason for it, and many of us weren’t sure what it meant later down the line, but we knew Mr. McMahon was happy. And if the boss was happy, that made the rest of us happy, too. My dad had given me a call earlier that day exclaiming that this was great for business. The first reason was because of the money. The second reason, which I figured was obvious enough, was because of bigger exposure. And that meant even more money.

“Hell, you women might even get paid a bit more now,” he added.

“I guess,” I recalled myself saying.

That was just some days ago before the party, however. Initially, I didn’t even want to go. I was tired and I had just worked a match prior to the night that it was announced. And there were other things bothering me as of late that I hadn’t the sheer will to talk about, even with close friends. I had been avoiding their gazes for some time now, and the questions that had come along my way. I had even tried to not notice them down the halls or in the locker rooms. My best friend Becky had been studying me for a while too, though. I could tell even when I tried ignoring it, but it’s hard to lie to her face. When the party was announced, she wanted me to come. ‘If it’s for free, it’s for me,’ I heard her say in her thick Irish accent as soon as we got the invitations. She had meant the free drinks and food, of course.

“Didn’t you just start that new regimen, though?”

“Regimen, schmegimen. You n’ me, we’re gonna have fun.”

“I guess,” I muttered. I sounded like a broken record player at this point. I wasn’t feeling well and she immediately knew it. I was also not very good at reigning in my emotions half the time, as much as I hated to admit it. I let my mood slip between shutters momentarily and that tiny blip hadn’t escaped Bex at all. She had known me too well sometimes. I felt a hand on my shoulder and I glanced at her. She was looking at me carefully when she tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“He’s not bothering you again, is he?”

The person she was referring to, of course, was my ex-husband.

Bram had been messaging me for the past month or so. I had to refrain from reacting every time his name popped up on my phone, because even though I didn’t talk about him often with Bex, I would still sometimes mention him from time to time. And text him. And call him.

My ex (who also happened to be a cheater, among other things) was still very important to me in my life. I had known this even after we had separated and got that divorce finalized. It had been a few years since it happened. But since then, I had found myself coming to terms with it slowly but surely. Talking to him about his time in the indies versus my time here in the WWE was always nice. We would even joke around from time to time, and it felt like things could be normal between us. It wasn’t like my heart was broken anymore. I had accepted for a while that I could move on and be done with that chapter of my life. Even better, I could still keep that important person in my life and be fine with it.

And everything _was_ fine, until he said those words.

_I miss you._

The text alone had made my heart feel like it was crumbling beneath my rib cage. I felt my throat clamp down and any air left in me was gone. Whatever delusion I believed in was a joke. I was still in love with him, and I had been lying to myself the whole time. Even when I didn’t want to admit it, this was the truth.

I was _so_ pathetic.

I had to look away from Bex for a moment just to gather myself. I hated crying in front of anyone, but mostly in front of my best friend because every time I saw that look in her eyes, it just made me want to bring down every wall that I had built for myself. Besides puns, she had a knack for reading emotions, but mostly mine. It was insane, really. How she could do that, even now when she brought her arms around me and rested her head on top of mine.

“Hey,” she said to me softly, “how about girls’ night instead, yea? Just the two of us. We can cook n’ watch a movie n’ I’ll even bring that stupid tin opener so you can tease me about it some more.”

I appreciated the sentiment, really. Even smiling about that bit about her not being able to open cans very well. But I decided in that moment that I had other plans in mind.

“How about free food and drinks, instead?”

Bex was slow to react, but it didn’t take her too long to understand what I had meant. She grinned at me.

“Hell yea.”

\

“What the hell happened? And why’re we naked?”

I was still sitting there figuring out what the fuck to do next when Bex finally woke up. I shook my head.

“I don’t know. Do you remember anything from last night?”

“I… I remember the food,” Bex said, “an’ the people. Wasn’t that one guy bothering you at the bar? I had to come and save you.”

“Fuck,” I said, massaging my temple. I was pissed at this point, not because of Bex, but because of my stupid shit. “I don’t know what happened after that. But I remember the drinks. I think I blacked out after that. My head is killing me.”

“Yea… I’m not feeling too hot right now either, to be honest.”

I gave her a quick glance—yup, very naked—and she looked like she was about to upchuck half of her dinner plate from last night. I dashed straight for the wastebasket in the bathroom before she could, taking note of our sprawled clothes and undergarments in the bathroom. Whatever she had eaten filled the stuffy room with its odor quickly, and it was incredibly strong. It made me want to ditch whatever contents were in my stomach too, but I held it in for her sake. I sat by her while she relieved herself, holding her hair up and pulling a curl or two back. As I waited for her to finish, I was still trying to think back to last night. If there was one thing I did remember, it was her face. And how close it was to mine.

When she finally finished, she shivered. I grabbed a towel nearby and wrapped it around her. But she wouldn’t look at me. I took that as my cue to grab my belongings.

“Wait,” she said, “do you… do you think we...?”

“I...” was all I could say. To be quite honest, I wasn’t sure what to think. The evidence seemed a bit damning for it to be too much of an coincidence. After all, we had left it in the bathroom and we woke up with nothing on. But that could mean anything. Right? Maybe it was too hot last night. Maybe we got so used to being in our wrestling gear that the thought of staying in a dress and heels for too long was simply exhausting to be in. So we chose to sleep naked? Goddammit, if I was trying to convince myself, I was doing a terrible job at it. But I wasn’t sure what else to think, except for excuses and other irrelevant things that may have better explained our situation.

“I don’t know,” I finally said, and put my head in my hands. “I’m sorry. This was all my fault.”

“How is this your fault? It takes two to tango, after all.”

“I remember now,” I explained, “I was angry, so I suggested drinks. I think it escalated from there.”

“But that’s not your fault,” she said. “We both tag teamed that bar and made it our bitch. I guess whatever happened after that was… well, there’s flashes here n' there.”

“Flashes?”

“Yea, y’ know. Just little things.”

“Becky...”

“I mean, it’s not that big a deal, I don’t think—”

“We did it, didn’t we?”

“It’s possible we may’ve cuddled a little. _Just_ a little.”

“Fuck.”

“I think we already did that, Char.”

“No! I mean, ‘fuck’. As in, ‘Fuck, I don’t know what to say.’”

Bex contemplated for a moment, then said, “I mean, who knows? Maybe we actually slept the whole time.”

“All of our clothes are sitting in the bathroom.”

“Maybe we just took a shower and called it a night?”

“And forgot to put on our PJ’s?”

“I mean, we _are_ in my hotel room.”

“So you go commando before going to sleep?”

She paused, “Well, considering you have no clothes on either, maybe you do, too.”

I gave her a look. She didn’t seem to be buying her own version of what happened, either.

“Alright, alright,” she relented. “If we did the deed… well, what does it matter? Would you’ve preferred for it to have been that sleazy guy at the bar?”

“No,” I sighed.

“Me either. Not to say I’m happy with how it turned out, but,” she shrugged, “it certainly minimizes a lot of the consequences that comes with male-female sex, no?”

“Yeah, that’s true.” And it _was_ true. I certainly wasn’t ready to deal with the idea of contracting STDs from some random stranger, or something far worse. And the possibility of ending up pregnant was the last thing I wanted, especially in the profession I was in. And if it had to be with anyone, I was lucky it was with someone I knew.

I guess if it had to be _anyone_ I trusted, Bex would technically be at the very top of the list. With that thought, it made me feel a little bit relieved, to be honest.

But I was unsure of how Becky was feeling. She was staring at the wall for a while, wearing an expression that I did not recognize and only ever rarely saw in the time I’ve spent with her. She didn’t look upset, but she didn’t seem happy, either. It made me nervous. I wanted to know what she was thinking, maybe even channel a bit of her fiery spirit. She often always saw things in a better light and I knew I could depend on her support. But in that moment, she looked like she was trying to act nonchalant about the whole thing. I’ve seen this face once before, back when we were in NXT.

_I’m sorry. I thought you were interested._

Looking back now, I could tell she was ashamed with herself.

“Are you alright, though?”

I blinked out of my daydream.

“What?”

“I mean, I don’t want,” she waved her hand in the air, “— _whatever_ happened to us—to change anything. But I understand if you feel…”

“Of course it doesn’t change anything,” I said. “You’re my best friend, Bex.”

“I just don’t want anything bad to happen to us—”

“It won’t.”

“—because I care about you too much.”

The look on her face was overwhelming. I reached for her hand and squeezed, rubbing circles on the back of her palm. It seemed to make her feel better, but I could still sense some of her doubt. Perhaps some of that came from a certain place in her heart, an insecurity that she harbored for a while now since our time together.

In that moment, I wished I could take away her guilt.

“You will always be my friend. No matter what happens.”

\

The second time I noticed something different between us, I almost wished I hadn’t.

Since that night, things had been normal between us, but not everyone around us was. Nobody had the specifics, and I don't think everyone really knew the story. But _something_ had happened, and everyone knew it. How they did, I wasn’t sure. I could tell things were bubbling with fervor underneath the surface. People were beginning to get worried. Whatever story was running through the grapevine, I couldn't be bothered enough to be concerned about it. God knew I already had enough on my plate in life. So I further distanced myself from whatever those rumors were by pretending to act nonchalant about it. After all, I had already distanced myself from everyone for a while now, what was it to them if I showed them that I didn’t care about what they thought?

But what I did care about was that lies were potentially being spread. And above all, I cared about Bex, too. Anything being said about her was my responsibility. Eventually, I’d have to find out just what was being spread. I had no idea I would be finding out sooner rather than later.

I had just stuck the last rhinestone on my temple when someone bumped into me backstage. A blur of orange-fire hair and a whiff of apples stirred my senses. “Oh! Sorry… Oh hey, there you are!”

“Hey. You ready?”

“You know it. Let’s give these girls a lass kickin’!”

She stuck out her pinky finger, and I reciprocated with my own. She bumped hers with mine and sipped her pretend tea. I looked on as she began her pre-match ritual—usually consisting of jumping in place and scrunching up her face in many humorous ways—to prepare herself for the raucous crowd. I turned away and stretched out my arms and legs, mentally chanting a mantra to myself.

Before long, she left for gorilla position, and I waited for the rest of the girls’ entrances to wrap up. I shook off the last of my nerves before slipping on my sparkling gold robe. Then, I too followed suit and walked through the curtains to meet the bright lights.

Introductions aside, I could tell that the seats were filled up to the nosebleed sections. The entrance path was long and narrow, much longer than how it looked earlier when Bex and I rehearsed our moves. For our match, a multi-competitor women’s match, we only had two main spots that we needed to do, the last one being one of many new sequences we had been working on post-Mania season. Usually, we weren’t allowed to premiere unique spots unless they were approved from management. But we were given somewhat of a leeway on house shows, and tonight felt like the perfect time. Plus, Becky was feeling especially excited to show off her new move to the fans.

Besides testing new spots, house shows were also a way for the producers of the match to test new and potential storylines. For many weeks now, there had been talks of finally getting Becky into the championship scene again thanks to her newfound support and rising merch sales. In response, they wanted me to try and test those waters by putting our onscreen friendship on the line, something that I was more than happy to do.

If you asked me, it was more of a heel turn tease on my end, as well. They wanted to set up a respect angle à la Sasha vs Bayley at TakeOver with me playing the potential bad guy. When we were told about it for the first time, we were ecstatic. We knew our in-ring chemistry would work in our favor, but it was Becky who decided to take it to the limit by incorporating new things into the mix. One of them was the sequence that was coming right up.

Things were going smoothly for a while. Much later into the match, sprawled bodies were littered outside the ring, and some of the girls were still fighting each other. In the ring, Becky was resting in the corner turnbuckle after being thrown there by Dana Brooke. The latter had just gotten Carmella out of the ring with a stiff kick to the midsection, sending her flying through the ropes and out of the ring. I knew that was my cue. With Dana distracted, I slipped into the ring and waited for her to turn around. The crowd exclaimed as I nailed her with a big boot to the face. I shouted to the top of my lungs. I was getting really pumped now that I knew what was coming next. I whipped my head around to face my best friend and new rival. I could tell Bex was just as thrilled, and with Dana rolling out of the way, it was just the two of us in the ring. I grinned.

We had exchanged back-and-forth blows. Becky threw in a slap for good measure, igniting shouts in the building. I reciprocated with a slap of my own, making her stumble. She threw in a hard chop, and another one until I struck her with a huge elbow smash. I did this a few times to try and ‘stagger’ her momentum.

“Dodge this and fake a German,” I said under my breath.

I threw a high elbow smash that I knew she could avoid easily. Becky snuck underneath it, going for a German suplex. But as she ‘struggled’, I elbowed her abdomen a few times, loosening her hold around my belly.

“Lariat,” she said, grabbing my wrist.

She countered my abdomen strikes by whipping me out of the hold and into a short-arm lariat, a move she thought would make some Japanese wrestling fans very happy. She held onto my wrist, pulling me up again to my feet.

“Your turn,” she said.

Before she could pull off another lariat, however, I took advantage of her delay with a lariat of my own, inciting heat from the audience. I gritted my teeth, feigning my fury, as I dragged her up by her trunks to try and set up for a powerbomb.

The crowd at this point was loving it. I live for the reaction I get prior to a powerbomb set-up. I went to lift her up, but feigned exhaustion. I tried for it twice, but Becky resisted me. Then, just as we had rehearsed several times, she dead lifted me up and over her back. I landed flat on the mat as she landed flat on me, her lower back floating just above my face. With both my shoulders down, the ref started the count.

“1! ...2! …”

Just before the three-count could be made however, I slowly bridged up, breaking the pin, to the immense adulation of the fans. I was happy for the reaction, because it’s no easy feat to accomplish, even for me. Keeping my arms wrapped just underneath her rib cage, I turned her around and set up another powerbomb attempt. But she quickly reversed the attempt by hooking both her arms in mine and turning us back-to-back. With our hooked elbows, we ‘struggled’ against each other through our sheer strength, but this gave her a chance to catch her breath before the big spot. I held my breath, and waited for her signal.

She tugged my right elbow twice. _Ready?_

In response, I tugged the same elbow back as well.

_Yes._

She quickly unhooked herself, spinning herself around me until she caught both my arms in a full nelson hold. I could feel her hands locking behind my neck as she adjusted. I automatically leaned my head forward in a tuck posture, my knees bending to accommodate for her height and the jump. This brought her very close to the back of my neck, and I immediately had a déjà vu moment. She got me right where she wanted me, her belly to my back, dead center in the ring.

“Dragon suplex,” I heard her say. I felt her breath on my back, and I shuddered instinctively.

Suddenly, she lifted. My body flew up, flinging backwards as the world flipped itself upside-down. The inert feeling in my stomach dispersed into a thousand tiny butterflies. The speed at which she threw us blurred my vision so much that for a fraction of a second, all I heard were the echoes of people. The sounds of oohs and aahs distanced themselves so far away from my mind, they became atmospheric. As the bright lights overwhelmed my sight, everything went white.

And for a moment, in this white landscape, I heard Becky say my name—my real name. Or perhaps I imagined it all…

My shoulders were supposed to land first, but my head pounded against the mat a split second sooner. I felt my entire lower body flail over my head as Bex held up the bridging pin. I was dazed and confused as I felt the ref slam his arm down for the count. But I could hear the distinct cheers from the crowd scream even harder from Bex’s newly unveiled move, and I had to hide my sheepish grin.

“1! …2! …”

Right on time. I felt someone from outside the ring attack Becky, breaking up the pin she had on me in the process. I didn’t remember who it was, but it was a chance for me to roll away to the ring apron and rest. I sighed.

It was a job well done. At least, I thought it was.

Once the match was over, all the girls headed to the back and hit the showers. I avoided talking to anyone in the locker room, though. I knew the bump could’ve been taken better, I thought after I stumbled to the back. I didn’t think it was too bad at first, but I was trying hard not to trip over anything along my way backstage. My head felt like it was full of marbles, bouncing and colliding against each other with a crack. Eventually, I had to sit down and take a moment to breathe.

I didn’t tuck my head well enough, I realized afterwards. I craned my head back ever so slightly when she called the spot. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_ , I thought to myself. I had hoped if anybody from management had noticed, they would have let it slide. But with the bump I took, I was afraid they would have us get rid of the spot altogether. The last thing I wanted was to derail Bex’s push by taking away the hard work she put into making it happen.

But with my worries and doubts about me, in my moment of solitude, I had forgotten about my Irish Lass Kicker. Where did Becky go? I squeezed my eyes closed as the pain rolled around in the back of my head once more. My growing irritation was seeping through heavily and didn’t help my situation. I was trying so hard to ignore the pain, to forget our match.

“Hey!”

Hot breath on my spine. Reminiscent of thin, white sheets.

“Helloooo!”

My name on her lips.

“Earth to _Charlotte!”_

I snapped my eyes open. Natalya was hovering over me, annoyance plastered on her face. I was going to apologize for not paying attention, but I was taken aback when she lifted my chin up. She studied my face.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Annoyance was replaced with concern very quickly. “You don’t look okay.”

I shrugged. “I’m fine, Nattie.”

The Queen of Harts inched closer to my face, but she was too blurry.

“Your pupils are dilated.”

“What?”

“I was originally going to compliment you for taking that insane bump, but it looks like you took it pretty badly. You look like you might even have a concussion.”

I rolled my eyes. “I doubt it, Dr. Hart.”

“I’m serious,” she said.

“Yeah, well, I’m fine,” I said, pushing her hand away. Nattie crossed her arms, and I could tell she wasn’t having it.

“Look, I get it. You’re strong and you can take care of yourself. Trust me, I know that already. But, you can be really stubborn, too. I’d be lying if I said I don’t worry about you sometimes. So would the rest of us. So I have to ask anyway, are you sure everything is okay?”

If you were to ask me what my biggest pet peeve was, it would be this question. _Always_ this question, and even more so now that it was the umpteenth time that I had been asked that already. It didn’t escape me that the girls had also been talking—talking and constantly worrying about my distancing relationship with them, and I knew that that was exactly what Nattie wanted to talk me about. _Perfect timing,_ I bitterly thought. Nevermind my mounting pain, or my increasingly depleting patience with everyone and everything. But looking back now, I realized I should have gone easy on Nattie. I should have gone easy on a lot of them. How would I have known my personal issues would get the best of me? I couldn’t have. Nattie was right. I _was_ stubborn.

And I was still even as I was getting up to leave. But Nattie stood in front of me, hands on her hips. Nattie could be stubborn too sometimes.

“Charlotte,” she said, “please. At least just go to one of the doctors. You can’t ignore these kinds of injuries. You need to look out for yourself.”

It felt like my new headache was going to burst out of my cranium in that moment, because my anger soon took a foothold into something solid. We have an unwritten rule from management that says that we should never refer to each other by our real names. I think it was even written in our contracts. But she was thoroughly testing me, and this was becoming personal.

“Natalie,” I said, trying to clench my fist but doing a terrible job at it, “I think I know how to look out for myself just fine. Thanks, anyway.”

I try and turn away one more time, but she stops me _again._

“Will you stop being so mad and just _listen to me?_ God, what is with you lately? Whenever people try and talk to you, you immediately tense up and leave. We’re just trying to help you. _I’m_ just trying to help you.”

“Guess what, Nattie? _I—don’t—need—it._ ”

“You and I both know that that’s not true.”

I scoffed at her. “I’m sorry?”

“I know that Bram has been trying to talk to you.”

I stared at her incredulously. Absolutely no one knew about this. No one.

Except...

“Did Becky tell you this?”

Natalie looked down, a shame crawling on her guilty face. It reminded me of someone I knew very well. Someone I thought I could trust as my best friend.

“What else has she said about me?”

“Look, Ash—”

“ _Don’t say my name._ ”

I turned away for the last time. I was walking with purpose, forgetting my pain and fully embracing my newfound adrenaline. I had a new objective in that moment. I just needed to find _her_ first.

But when I approached the office in the locker room, I was stunned to find Bex talking to one of the higher-ups. And Mr. McMahon himself. I didn’t even know he was here today. I instantly felt sick to my stomach. I stood outside the door, my hand hovering over the door knob, my intent clear but my body unmoving. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, and I couldn’t lip read for the life of me. But their faces were somber and unsmiling. It had said everything I was afraid of.

“Charlotte?”

I jumped at the touch on my shoulder. I turned around, and met another blurry face, although I could tell this one was new. Judging by the polo shirt and stethoscope around her neck, it was one of those doctors that the company had recently employed.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Elise. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Hi, it’s, uh, nice to meet you, as well. What’s this about?”

“I’ll be examining you today for your injury.”

“But I don’t have an injury,” I said.

“I am following up per management’s orders. I was told you may have sustained an injury during your match today with Becky Lynch. I can just do a quick check up. If I find no immediate problems, I’ll send you well on your way.”

I was baffled, to say the least. “But why did management order this? Why wasn’t I notified? And why is Bex talking to Mr. McMahon?”

“I’m not sure if I’m able to answer that last one,” she said, “but I can try and answer any other questions you have once we reach my office in the women’s locker room.”

Before I left, I looked over to where Bex was through the glass window. She was alone now, but the men’s words looked like they still lingered. She stood there briefly before wiping her face, and then leaving through the other door.

She had been crying.

//

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was a one-shot about a drunk encounter and its aftermath, but then it spiraled and turned into a bit of a slowburn. Oops. 
> 
> I’m honestly not sure where this is gonna go tbh. I'm also riding this rollercoaster because idk how this is gonna end, nor do I know how long this is gonna be. Ideally, I’m shooting for three chapters, only cuz I don’t really feel like setting myself up for failure if I end up losing interest in writing. But we shall see. Rest assured, however. CharLynch is endgame.
> 
> Also, comments keep me going so please comment if you enjoyed or want to critique this fic.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte struggles during her time away from the ring after suffering a concussion from her match at the live event. But she's mostly hurting from being away from Becky for so long. Shortly before she's set to make her in-ring return, Charlotte decides to recount just what went wrong. Her first stop? Her relationship with an old ex.

//

The soft hum of music sounded from a distance. An unfamiliar song played on repeat, and I let it consume me and my thoughts.

She was on my mind for _days_.

There was a feeling in my bones that stirred every now and then, either out of self-pity or determination, to see the days through. Nights like these, after all, should have been better spent for dreaming, rather than overthinking. But I had been spending my time doing the latter for a while now.

Admittedly, I was counting down the days, but eventually, I had grown impatient in the weeks since I had seen her. Days had stretched out far longer than I could deal with. At the same time, however, I grew more and more anxious as they fell into nights. I knew it brought me closer and closer to the day when I'd come back from injury. As excited as I was to come back to the ring, I also dreaded seeing her again. Especially after what happened between us.

I sat outside, a chilly breeze enveloping me despite the jacket I wore. I sunk deep into the old thing, a loose and unfitting piece of material that I had been meaning to throw out, but hadn’t the strength to do. It belonged to Bram, but I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it.

Oh well.

I tugged it closer around my neck and blew a cold sigh into the darkness. It hung aimlessly, just like my regrets. I looked down at my phone.

_12:55 am._

And I sighed again.

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek, my foot twitched to a rhythm indistinct to me. I had been so close to wanting to grab my phone, dial her number, and talk to her. But I couldn’t bring myself to even look at my lock screen. I settled for laying down on the grass, listening to the breeze for just a minute. I took it upon myself to recount my memories, both the good and the bad, just to try and alleviate my head.

But the first thing to pop up in my head was her face.

_I’m sorry._

I opened my eyes.

The light from my phone lit just before turning black again. A random notification. I took it in my hands and turned it back on. But my thumb hovered over the lock screen.

My wallpaper was a picture of us. Her face gazing at mine with a wonderful grin, eyes beaming and bright.

No.

I shut my eyes, and hugged myself even tighter.

Tomorrow was my first day back.

\

Before everything escalated to its breaking point, I guess I should probably start from the beginning. _Way_ before the night.

It started with my ex-husband some years ago.

I remember the times I spent with him, and I remember being happy.

Even after he left the company, something had happened between the two of us that couldn’t keep us away from each other. It was a typical love story. Boy meets girl. Boy asks girl out for dinner. They fall in love right away. Boy eventually asks girl to marry him and she says yes. I couldn’t have asked for anything more than that.

I was a different person back then. It was because my life had been filled with turmoil up until that point. I had been hurt and I had been bitter for so long that I wanted to fill it with something that wasn’t horrible. Something that was meaningful.

And it was because I was alone. I was _empty_.

He had come into my life one day and I let him in when I had needed him the most. He was the only person that mattered when life became unbearable. When it had been overshadowed by pain and death.

I remember all the little things he would do that would remind me of how happy we were together. Most of them had seemed so small and insignificant at the time, like texts that we’d share so late in the night whenever we were apart. The best part about them were how much of them made my day, knowing that he took the time out of his day to think about me. Knowing he had cared about me at some point.

Those days seemed so far away now.

Even before we were married, we were inseparable. But whenever I was alone and on the road, the moments we shared were the only things that kept me tethered to sanity, and to him. At one point in my life, he mattered so much that I couldn’t imagine being alone in this world without him.

Perhaps that was always the problem.

He wasn’t always the best person, you see. When he had been let go by the company, he became desperate for something meaningful as well. His life had flipped upside down and he was so frustrated. I worried for him for a long time. I tried to be what he was for me, and I took care of him.

_Just leave me alone._

At least, I tried.

On some days, he’d come around. I remember when he greeted me one warm day some years ago before we married. I was still training at Full Sail in the Performance Center when he surprised me after my workout.

“Hey beautiful,” he pulled up in his car. He had his sunglasses on, and wore his hood up and over his head. He was wearing the same hoodie he would eventually gift me when we’d move in together, many months later.

“Oh hey! I didn’t know you were stopping by.” I kissed him tenderly before hugging him, relishing his presence.

“Surprises are my specialty,” he mused, “Plus, I’m free today and was craving something. Wanna get food?”

“Actually...”

“Hey Ashley, get a load of this!” Yelled a voice nearby, laced with a distinct Irish accent. “What type of ship has two mates but no captain? A relationship!… Oh. Hello, there.”

Before I could respond, my gym partner popped up from out of nowhere behind me, with a towel over her shoulder, gym bag in hand, and a water bottle in the other. Her hair was much darker than it was now, but still just as luminous in the light. She blinked at me and Bram, slowly piecing together our interaction like she had just found a puzzle and tried to form the picture in her head. I realized that we probably looked a little strange with Bram looking incognito.

“Hey,” I said. “Don’t mind him. He’s harmless. This is my fiancé, Bram. Bram, this is Rebecca, the new friend I told you about.”

Both Becky and Bram did a double take.

“Fiancé?”

“Rebecca? As in Becky?”

“Mm hmm,” I gave them a firm smile, glaring mostly at Bram. I was hoping he’d get the hint to act civil. But I could feel him stiffen a bit in his seat, his hand gripping the wheel of his car ever so slightly. I could see the white in his knuckles clearly.

He hadn’t been the only one. Becky had also narrowed her eyes at him upon approaching him. But as a former student of acting and theatre, she was utilizing her past experience well. Unlike Bram, Becky was the first to greet him with a smile, and waved at him eagerly.

“Nice to meet you, Bram. Heard a lot about you.”

“Likewise,” he said with a smirk. “Ready, Ash?”

“Actually, I made plans to go out with Becky and get some shopping done before her first match. She’s debuting at a live event this week.”

“Nice,” he said. “Congrats. When’s your match?”

“In a few days,” she said, grinning. “I’m pretty nervous but I think it’s gonna be fun.”

“It will be,” I said to her, before turning to Bram. “We were going to get some stuff for her before the match so she can look good.”

“Girls’ night out, huh? Sounds fun. You guys don’t mind a guy tagging along, do you?”

“I mean, I don’t know, Bram,” I said, laughing, “You don’t mind us girls talking about makeup and manicures, do you?”

“It’s not my favorite subject,” he mused, “but I can make an exception for my girl. You don’t mind right, Becky?”

“Not at all!” She said.

We walked aimlessly around the shopping outlet near downtown, my hand occasionally brushing against Bram’s, as we scoured up and down Main Street, looking into various stores. Eventually we stumbled upon one that sold wigs and costumes.

“Let’s go in this one,” Becky said.

“You sure you need a new wig?” I said, laughing.

“Ha ha,” she said, “We’ll have fun in here.”

She walked into the store with a skip in her step, making me smile. I heard Bram chuckle next to me, and I blinked.

“What?”

“This is the girl that tried to ask you out?”

“I told you, there’s literally nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, I’m not worried,” he mused. “It’s kinda funny, though. She doesn’t look gay.”

“That’s cuz gay people don’t _look_ like anything.”

“You know what I mean,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I just didn’t get that vibe from her.”

It was my turn to roll my eyes. “That’s cuz you’re straight, Bram. You wouldn’t get a vibe from anything unless it started humping you.”

“Okay,” he laughed. “And you’d know because...?”

I shrugged. “I just do.”

We looked through the long and narrow aisles of the store. Looking up, we could see all kinds of costumes hanging freely from the racks above us, as well as all the accessories and knick-knacks that came with them. In one section of the store, I almost ran into a stethoscope around my neck just trying to squeeze my way through all the blue scrubs. The hospital aisle alone was filled with many fake medical instruments as well as uniforms to use. Some props were clearly for the horror aesthetic, as severed hands, legs, and guts filled a huge box beside the chainsaws and machetes hanging beside them. There was even a huge container filled with gallons of fake blood. The price tag on it read that it was on sale, too.

“That’s an intense amount of blood for $40.”

“Not for some people, apparently.” Becky’s head popped out of one of the lab coats nearby. “This store is pretty neat. I found a bucket full of eyeballs.”

“I’m not so sure if the producers will let you use that in your matches,” I laughed.

“Maybe I can be a mad scientist. I could make a great evil laugh. ‘Muahahaha!’”

I shook my head. “That’d be terrible.”

“Hmmm. What about a soldier? I could be Rambo.”

“It’s better but...”

“A pilot?” She pulled out a bomber jacket and an aviator cap from one of the stands, tugging the hat down on her head. I rummaged through the box near me and whipped out some large, old-looking goggles.

“These look pretty cool.” I handed it to her. Becky threw out the hat and snapped the pair of goggles on over her eyes. She looked at her reflection in the mirror nearby, giving the look a once-over. She tapped her chin thoughtfully.

“Steampunk,” she said.

We moved onto the makeup section, which looked a bit cheap and messy but for the purposes of all that is wonderful about wrestling, it was perfect for people like Becky and me. Subsections of different glitters and powders sat in a pile where samples were available. The vanity mirrors in front of us were dusty with tiny and sparkling particles, and fingerprints littered the canvas of some product. From the looks of it, it seemed like this was a popular section of the store. I was thumbing a packet of rhinestones curiously when I heard Becky sigh.

“I feel like I’m getting ahead of myself,” she said, scratching her head.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I mean, perhaps dancing in the ring like I’m the Lord of Dance is a bit insulting as an Irish lass, but at least it’s something, right?”

“It’s an awful gimmick, Becky.”

“I know. But what if I don’t have a choice? Especially if it’s something they really want me to commit to? Maybe it’s better to accept it now.” She shrugged, and I felt for her then. I wanted to reach out to her and tell her that it was okay, that I understood her sentiments, that everything would be fine. But it would have been useless.

Instead, I shook my head.

“No.”

Becky blinked at me. “No?”

“No way,” I repeated. “You’re better than that.”

“You say it like you know for a fact.”

There was a defeat in her eyes that lingered, and I understood where she was coming from. Granted, the idea of basically being a laughing and dancing leprechaun character was a slap in the face. But living the dream in a company where people could only hope to work for left little room to complain about. I had been lucky to be given an opportunity to work with whatever I wanted, provided I still put the work in. But Becky hadn’t been.

She was torn.

I looked at Becky straight in her eyes. On occasion, I often caught myself looking at her whenever I saw her at the Performance Center. At the time, I didn’t know much about her. Back then we had only known each other for a couple of months, yet hardly interacted outside of the gym. So at best, we were each other’s workout buddy. But unbeknownst to her, however, I knew where she came from.

After all, I had seen most of her matches from the indies, thanks to my dad.

 _I want to be just like you_ , I told him one day. He had been hesitant of course, just like all dads watching their daughters take after them. But after a while, he encouraged me to keep an eye on other wrestling promotions, especially ones that revolved around women's wrestling.

 _If you’re gonna do it,_ he said, _you’ll learn from the best women in the business today. Don’t give up!_

I only needed to watch one match from a DVD he let me borrow before becoming obsessed with what the indie scene had to offer.

At a time when WWE couldn’t provide much in the way of women’s wrestling, it had been a godsend. The world seemed so much bigger than what I thought it could be. I became excited at the prospect of what wrestling could be, _should be_ . I wanted to _be_ these women that I had seen in promotions like Shimmer and SHINE. Women like Cheerleader Melissa, Britani Knight, Kana… these were all women I loved watching in the ring. And then, there were women like Rebecca Knox.

I remember stumbling upon some wrestling videos on YouTube once. I remember falling asleep in the middle of one lazy Sunday watching matches on the side. I woke up in the middle of watching a clip from a SuperGirls match. I saw a girl in short blonde pigtails with her arms raised, bragging and yelling about being the best in the ring. I had found out later, after replaying some of my dad’s DVDs, that this girl went by the name of Rebecca Knox.

I felt like a fly gravitated towards light. Something about the fiery teenager from Ireland drew me in, and I didn't know what. Maybe it was her ring presence, the way she wrestled, or that distinctly brash way she carried herself in the ring. All I knew in that moment was that I wanted to learn more.

I looked up what I could find of her, her moveset, her background, when she started wrestling. I began reading what I could with the little assistance that Google could provide at the time. Back then, not much was known about this girl, except that she had worked several promotions prior to Shimmer, including ones in Europe and Japan. She had been around my age, but already she had been acclaimed by journalists for being a great up-and-comer, and for bringing high quality matches at such a young age. I knew if she could do it, then so could I. But I still wanted to know more about her. I _had_ to know more about Rebecca Knox. I had realized it then as I did now, that I wanted to face her in the squared circle.

But one headline I stumbled upon was enough to shatter those hopes. She had retired from wrestling some years ago due to an injury.

I was _devastated_ , to say the least. And for a girl that I had never even met.

Still, I was determined to see my dream through. Once I got my degree, I knew that wrestling was where I needed to go. After a while, I had forgotten about Rebecca Knox, and I was in developmental trying to make up for my years of inexperience by putting in hours upon hours of work.

Then one day, talks of a signee had reached the roster. A girl from Dublin, Ireland.

Who could have possibly have known we’d end up in the same place years later?

“Becky,” I said, “I _know_ for a fact you’re better than that. You don’t think I’m aware of the indies?”

She looked up. She may not be have the name anymore, but there was still that girl that I looked up to, that same girl I wanted to fight someday.

One day, in front of thousands of people.

“Don’t give up,” I said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “This won’t be forever. It will work out for you. Just like it did for Rebecca Knox.”

She went wide-eyed at the sudden name drop. I remember wondering if I had overstepped a line. But I couldn’t help to think how surreal it was to stand in front of her and acknowledge her for the very first time face to face. It was so different than watching her through old matches and interviews. In that moment, I believed in destiny. This had been fate in the flesh.

And I was happy to welcome it.

“Thank you,” she said with a certain awe, and smiled.

We were startled by a scream, though it sounded in between a yelp from a dog and a squawking parrot.

“Jesus Christ, there’s some real-looking spiders here!”

She and I both snickered.

The rest of the day had been a blur, but from that day on, it was this conversation that brought us inevitably together.

It also wasn’t too long after that Bram and I had tied the knot in a little chapel in my hometown.

The subsequent days and months that followed were busy enough to keep me occupied.

I had gotten so passionate about the work we were doing in NXT—to try and build a women’s division from the ground up, and to revolutionize women’s wrestling forever—that I was convinced that my life had turned around. The person I was before, Ashley Fliehr, no longer had to suffer.

Becoming Charlotte Flair felt like my saving grace. She was confident and strong, a force to be reckoned with. Just like Dad.

Charlotte Flair was someone that had everything.

Ashley Fliehr had none of those things. She was not happy. She was sad, and she was broken, a pathetic girl left behind on the steps of a door that was long ago shut closed to her.

She was a girl that I could not go back to.

But it was easier said than done.

\

"Alright, Becky. Run the ropes."

Everyone gathered around the ring as I watched from the turnbuckle, my eyes twitching from a sleepless night. Becky began her sprint, flying from one side of the ring to the other, and then back again. The ring beneath her rattled and bounced against her weight. Our assistant coach Sara nodded approvingly before motioning to me.

"Your turn, Charlotte."

I breathed first, and waited for Becky to pass me before starting my sprint. I ran the ropes adjacent from her, mindful of keeping pace with her, ignoring the pain across my spine and shoulder blades as I leaned into the ropes. I felt hot sweat run down my side and I ached for relief.

“Keep up, Charlotte.”

 _Shit_ , I thought.

I quickened my pace, taking longer strides. I saw Becky in the corner of my eye, breathing evenly, deep in her zone and focused solely on the drill. I was trying to keep up, using my momentum from bouncing off the ropes to push forward, but I was already exhausted from today, and the night before. The words continued to barrage my mind. But just the feeling of the ropes digging into my spine made me clench my teeth. I tried to mask my pain.

“Faster, ladies!”

Becky exploded off the ropes, running faster than before. I tried to match her energy, trying to push harder. And harder. And _harder_ still _._

_Leave me alone._

The memory flickered. _Focus_ , I told myself, clenching my fists. In the process, I forgot to grab the top rope like we were supposed to. It made me lean into the ropes with my side first rather than the whole of my back. I wanted to cry from the pain.

“Basics, Char.”

_Stupid bitch._

My breath came unevenly. I tried to ignore it, but I felt helpless. _Focus!_ I repeated to myself. But instead, I choked on my spit trying to bring it back to rhythm.

 _Please stop_ , I told him.

I felt Becky’s eyes on me as she ran. The memory wasn’t going away.

_Get out._

She wore concern on her face. Contradicted by his full of anger.

_GET OUT!_

“Shit!”

We crashed into one another. Bex clutched her arm, flinching from the hard collision. I landed straight on my side, and sirens went off in my head as my body screamed in agony. I recoiled from the mat, flopping over like an animal caught in an electric wire. I could still hear an overwhelming amount of whispers plaguing my ears amidst the noise in my head.

“Settle down, you guys,” Sara said. “We’re gonna take a break. Ash, you’re done for today.”

I growled, mostly at myself. I stood up slowly, limping as though I had blocks for legs. I offered my hand to Becky, who took it gingerly with her free hand.

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Are you?”

“I’m…”

“Becky, come by the office in 5 minutes. Charlotte, follow me.” Sara waved me over.

I forced a smile, before making my way out of the ring and into Sara’s office. I sighed, knowing I was going to be chastised for fucking up for the third time today. But I knew it wasn’t my day today and I welcomed whatever crap that was going to come my way.

I was fully expecting to be berated, or at least be told off for almost hurting one of our best in the roster.

“Ashley, you alright?”

I wasn’t expecting this.

“Of course,” I said.

“That’s not what I got from you just now,” she said. “You’re all over the place today. Energy completely off. This isn’t like you.”

“I know.” I didn’t bother trying to lie.

“Rough night?”

“Off day.”

“Off days aren’t an excuse, you know. Not for me, not for Bill.”

 _Fuck Bill_ , I wanted to tell her. But I knew it would be no good. If our head coach was here, he’d probably make me relive hell freezing over with more of his _special_ drills.

“But,” she continued, “we all get them. Even the best of us. So, wanna talk about it?”

“No, not really.”

“Ash, I’m not gonna lie, I’ve been hearing the girls talk and quite frankly it bugs the hell out of me. But mostly because they sound really concerned about you. We all have each other’s backs, and we’re practically family here. So I gotta wonder—”

“You guys aren’t _family_.”

She lowered her gaze at me.

I responded with only a shrug.

She narrowed her eyes, studying me. She sighed before conceding to playing 21 Questions with me, and threw her hands up.

“Alright, Ash, but you’re gonna have to make it to me somehow. Take the whole day today to rest. But you’re coming back first thing tomorrow morning.”

“ _What?_ But it’s our day off—”

“And you’re gonna run the same drills again. Your piss-poor attitude is driving me nuts.”

I scoffed. Piss-poor attitude or not, I was upset at how unfair she was being right now.

My thoughts came to a halt when I heard a knock on the door.

“Hellooo.” A certain Irish girl popped her head in, cheery as always. I would have laughed at her natural silliness if I weren’t so upset.

“Hey Becky,” Sara said, motioning for her to come in. “Thanks for stopping by.”

I rolled my eyes. I always felt she favored Becky more than anybody here, probably because of their shared experiences at the indies. But I never said anything. Instead, I glared at the floor, wanting to be anywhere but here.

“Of course. What’s goin’ on?

“Looks like I’m calling in that favor. Flair here needs a partner to run drills with tomorrow. I’d hate to ask you on your day off, but...”

“Say no more,” she said, saluting her. “I’ve got it covered.”

 _Oh, Becky_ , I thought. _Enthusiastic as always._ I groaned internally at the idea of a happy-go-lucky Becky making me run ropes all morning.

“Not to mention, you still owe me.”

Becky had the biggest question mark form on her forehead.

“I do?”

“That you do,” Sara said, and winked.

I cocked an eyebrow up.

“Oh. Right,” Becky stammered. Cue the most awkward laugh to ever grace the face of this planet. Whatever the hell they were talking about, I didn’t wanna know.

“Alright, it’s settled. Thanks a lot. Ash, you’re free to go.”

“Great.”

I all but stormed out the office. I ignored the looks that came my way, pretending to not give a single fuck, and made my way to the locker rooms.

A moment later, I heard Sara call everyone back to drills, and the drumming of erratic stomps across the squared circle echoed the walls of the Performance Center once more. I ripped off my clothes, careful of not being too careless with my newly formed bruises, and grabbed a towel along the way. I opened one of the shower stalls, turned on the water until it was freezing cold, and welcomed the feeling of it against my burning skin.

I sighed.

I had no one to blame but myself, to be honest.

My own damn fault in trying to make things better, I guess. I should have known. Last night was the first time I had seen Bram so angry, and it scared the crap out of me. His face—the way they stared through me like an empty husk—brought back too many memories of another relationship that had gone wrong for me, and I knew I didn’t want to relive it again. He had been the man that I loved, the man that I married and promised to stay with. But I couldn’t do that to myself, it absolutely wasn’t worth it.

I needed to get away from it all.

It was raining when I took my car and left that same night, tears streaming like a river down my face as I felt the realization wash me over anew. I never felt so lonely and empty on a single highway without headlights. I drove with no destination in mind. But eventually, I found myself in the parking lot at the PC at 4 in the morning. And I couldn’t sleep, try as I might.

The will to be anything but strong-willed lost itself to a certain void that I couldn’t bother to care to fill anymore.

In that moment, I knew I had given up on myself. What would everyone say if they had seen me now? What would my dad say if he were here?

I closed my eyes.

I let the water consume me. I wanted it to drown me forever.

“Charlotte?”

_Of course._

I sucked in a shaky breath and ended my short and personal reprieve from the world.

“One sec.”

“Oh, sorry,” the voice said. “I just wanted to touch base with you real quick. Sara’s letting me leave early too, so we can rest until tomorrow. I know it sucks to have to come in, especially on a Saturday, but we won’t go too hard on the drills. And since it’ll just be you and me, I promise not to give you any surprise drills like a certain coach of ours would do. It’ll be your average, run-of-the-mill, totally normal— _holy mother of Jesus!”_

I blinked dully at Becky’s flushed face, who covered her eyes. I had nothing but a towel wrapped over my shoulders, mostly to hide the bruises over my back. I adjusted it discreetly.

“S-sorry. Wasn’t expecting nude Charlotte.”

“You’re fine,” I said. “So, normal session tomorrow?”

“Uh, yeah,” she cleared her throat, her gaze averted elsewhere—anywhere, really. “It’ll be fine. Nobody will be here besides us.”

I nodded.

“And Sara lent me the keys to the PC so we could probably leave a little early too if we wanted to.”

“Cool.”

And then, silence.

Becky rubbed the back of her neck.

“Listen, Charlotte, I don’t normally ask since we’re not close. I know you like your space, too. But I’m here if you wanna talk. About anything, really.

I sighed again. Out of everyone here, she was probably one of the few that didn’t talk or gossip about crap that didn’t concern them. She seemed to be one of the only people that I could trust. _That_ I was thankful for.

But, I realized, she probably _did_ know about Bram though, and how he left the company in the first place. People around the PC liked to talk too much about things that didn’t concern them, unfortunately, and I was afraid Becky may have heard a thing or two.

My mind flashed back to his voice for a second, telling me to not trust anybody at the PC about anything. He didn’t seem to take too kindly to Becky either, from what I remember.

Suddenly, spending time with Becky meant I’d probably have to walk on eggshells around her, too.

“I appreciate it, Becky,” I said. “Really, I do. But everything is fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Right. Okay. That’s good.”

Another moment of silence.

“You know... I don’t just say it just because,” she said. “I say it because I care.”

I half-laughed. “Everybody says that, Becky. They only care when something bad is happening.”

She shrugged. “Well, I care to try and make a difference.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Really!” she said. “I mean, have you even _heard_ some of my puns? I make the world go ‘round.”

“You make the world do something...”

“I’ll take _that_ as a compliment, lass.”

I shook my head and smirked, letting her enthusiasm get the better of me.

“You should.”

Becky smiled all too fondly.

“If it’s any consolation,” she said, “I didn’t come to the WWE to stir the pot. I came to fight the best wrestlers on the planet. Imagine what a waste of energy that’d be to do nothing, when you could be doing something great, like kickin’ some lass’s ass. So of course, if I’m gonna do that, I should at least make sure the poor girl’s ass I’m kickin’ is at the top of her game.” She shrugged, “‘S only fair.”

“That’s a really beautiful way of saying, ‘I care about people.’”

“I’m a lover _and_ a fighter.”

I shook my head again, smiling this time, “I think Bayley rubbed off on you with all those hugs she gives you.”

“Hey! _I_ rubbed off on Bayley. She just won’t admit it. But one day, she’ll realize it, and she’ll have to _embrace_ the truth.” She wagged her eyebrows, “Get it?”

I laughed, genuinely and sincerely. It made me forget our current situation temporarily. As well as my current state. She must have forgotten too because once she realized it, she turned away again, flushed and red in the face.

“I’m gonna go now.”

She all but ran, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more.

\

“Whew!”

“Yeah... That was intense.”

“I’m surprised you managed to keep up.”

“I _was_ in volleyball before this, you know.”

“‘Splains the roughness.”

I sat up, wiping beads of sweat off my forehead, and breathed. Mat wrestling wasn’t exactly my cup of tea, but it had been something I wanted to improve on, and Becky was more than happy to help. The European style, however, was another beast altogether, and I soon realized it when I was going up against my sparring partner. I had always put away the fact that I was inexperienced—that sort of thinking deterred me from my true goal of becoming a pro-wrestler—but since fighting Becky for the first time in the ring, and subsequently each time we wrestled one another, it had been glaringly obvious how much more I still needed to learn. Most things had come rather easily for me so I was used to it. But this girl continued to spin circles around me. Nevermind her years of experience over mine, it was obvious that she fought to get good. And she was.

I realized then that life had done me a solid during all that time, despite all my misgivings and all the shit I had went through to get to where I was today.

It had brought us together at the perfect time, and the perfect place.

My inexperience was my obstacle, but this time it was surprisingly a breath of fresh air. I had smiled at the challenge that was before me.

"Let’s go again."

“Nope, we’re done,” said Becky.

“Already?”

“We’ve been here for _four_ hours, Char. I’m exhausted, and so are you.”

I had my hands on my knees, beads of sweat sticking to me like hot wax paper. My disheveled state may have said more than enough about how tired I was. I sighed.

“Alright. Fine.”

Becky grinned at her easy victory. “You sound disappointed for someone who didn’t even wanna come in on her day off.”

“Shut up,” I laughed. “It was fun.”

She chuckled, drinking from a water bottle. “It was. And you’re alright. A bit rough around the edges, but you’re gettin’ quite the hang of it. Well done.”

“Thanks.” I grabbed the towel that she had tossed me earlier.

We settled for sitting down on the apron. Exhausted, Becky decided to lay down with her legs hanging out instead. I heard her breathe softly as I gazed at the wall in front of me. The PC, among holding rings and gyms and dummies for practice, also held mementos of the past to remind aspiring young wrestlers what they could be through hard work. One of these mementos happened to be a hung picture of the Four Horsemen. Too often whenever I was in the ring practicing my wrestling, or whenever I was being pinned or caught in a roll up, I glanced at the wall opposite me, and I would see them, my dad among them.

But he was not looking at me. He was looking out at something in the distance.

I wondered every time what he saw.

“Whatcha thinkin’, Queen?”

I turned my gaze to Becky, still sprawled out with her eyes closed. She seemed to relish being tired. She almost seemed like she was in her natural state of being just from being in the ring.

“It’s nothing.”

“Got your pretty lil’ head stuck in the clouds? If you want I can come join you.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s cute. You should write a song.”

She laughed. “I think I’ll stick to cracking jokes. Writing songs are not nearly as fun. Plus, humor is good for the soul.”

 _So is flirting, apparently,_ I thought as she did an Undertaker and pulled herself up to the bottom rope where I was. My mind immediately went back to that moment in the office, with a caught-off-guard Becky, and one typically-stoic assistant coach. I couldn’t help but smile at how typical it was.

“So, you and Sara, huh?”

“Hm?”

“You two having a thing or something?”

Becky nearly keeled over.

“ _What?_ ”

“I thought that that was what you guys meant. Back at the office yesterday? That ‘favor’ she was talking about?”

“God, no. She and I are friends. We go way back since our Shimmer days.”

“Then what was that all about?”

Becky turned flush with embarrassment.

“It was nothing. Honestly.”

I raised an eyebrow. For being a former student of theatre, this girl sucked at lying.

“I promise,” she insisted. “She did something for me once and I just owed her, that’s all.”

“A sex favor?”

“Oh _god._ She doesn’t even swing that way. Plus, she’s married!”

“So you would if she actually wanted to.”

She groaned, covering her red face. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I kid, I kid. You don’t seem like a homewrecker, anyway.”

She scoffed, “Well, I’m happy I have that going for me. Would hate for anybody to mistake me as such.”

“Nah, you’re a good person, Bex. Anybody would be lucky to have you.”

“Same goes for you, you know. I don’t just ask anybody out.”

She gave a sheepish smile, and for some reason I suddenly felt the room get warm once more. The dull white noise coming from the fan filled a silence louder than my own thoughts. A voice in my head said she had to have been lying. Because there’s no way I was a good person.

Not _me_.

Becky rubbed the back of her head.

“Charlotte, I—”

“I wasn’t upset, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t change anything.” And it was true, I wasn’t going to let it change anything. In the short amount of time since I had known her, I realized that I liked Becky. She had been someone I looked up to, and someone that I wanted to learn from. But I couldn’t admit to myself back then there had been another reason, and that it was because she was too precious for me to let something like feelings get in the way of a budding friendship—my _only_ friendship at the time. It was, after all, a truth I hadn’t known yet.

But there was another truth that I knew at the time. One that I felt compelled to say to her. “To be honest,” I said, “you’re the only person I’m comfortable with.”

She sighed, wringing her hands a little in a way that I noticed was her way of wrestling with herself and her own thoughts. “I just noticed you were being distant with me, and I was never sure, ya know?”

I looked at her. She often struck me as a person who was hardly sad or upset, but that soon changed when the tides had pulled back, revealing just a little bit of the feelings she had held for something that was apparently very important to her. It was such an expression that she wore on her face—such a minute change in features that receded back ever so quickly—that made it hard for me to ignore or shrug off. It made me feel a certain vulnerability that was impossibly hard to describe.

Maybe a part of this was my fault.

“It’s not you, Bex, I promise,” I said. “I just… carry a lot of shit with me.”

“Same, really. Did you see the shovel I came in with today? Whew!” She wiped the sweat off her brow. “It’s amazing how much shit we have to shovel every day.”

I chuckled. It still often amazed me how she was able to have that effect on me, how she was able to make me laugh and smile like it was nothing. She didn't need to be so damn kind, so considerate, so thoughtful—

 _So_ _good to me,_  I thought.

But she did.

It was something that I didn't mind having around me.

I remember thinking that day, if it weren’t for so many things, if it had been a different time or a different place, perhaps we could have been more than just friends. I could have seen myself being with Becky the way she wanted to be with me. I could have been happy.

She never knew that, of course. But eventually, we grew to be close. Until finally, there was nothing we didn’t know about each other. It had been beautiful, and genuine, all at the same time. It had been the most honest relationship I ever had with someone.

Coach Sara had been right. I had family and it was here with me. Soon, it would grow, just like me.

But that had been the only time I ever even remotely thought about the idea of us. The only time we ever came close to that notion.

Until that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, and I sincerely apologize for the wait. The Charlynch feud effed me up in more ways than one and to be honest, I was really hesitant about posting this chapter. Mostly because I just wasn't sure if I was crossing some lines or not, but I seriously spent far too much time on this than I need to admit and I figure I'll just post it anyway and get it over with. Plus, I wanted to celebrate after Evolution so here is my way of celebrating I guess. Let me know what you guys think. I'm stonecoldbex@tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something has happened between the two best friends that neither are willing to talk about, and for some reason, Becky has stopped talking to Charlotte altogether. So Charlotte decides to recount the night of her injury during the live event, and then relives the events of the network party that she and Becky attended weeks prior to her injury. As she looks back, however, Charlotte realizes that not everything goes as planned when drinks are involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my readers out there who waited patiently for the third chapter, this one's for you. 
> 
> Give "[Klapp Klapp](https://open.spotify.com/track/55O2krAAa87BgTuuASCU1m)", "[Only One](https://open.spotify.com/track/7AKonCuSi35fHQ313x11PN)", "[Killing Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/78EuP6kRWZCRt4zUqrf2nv)" by Little Dragon a listen, and immerse yourself in revelry.

//

It was a month ago when Bex visited me the night I had my injury.

I was still with Dr. Elise about my condition. Since the injury, Dr. Elise had told me to take it slow. A reprieve from the action helped my exhausted body out a lot. But a break from being on the road with everyone, however, meant I couldn’t see Bex for a while. I remember how I felt when the doctor had told me the news. That poor woman had to take a step back when she saw how livid I was. I realize now that she was just trying to help, trying to be the doctor that she was. But at the time, I didn’t know how else to feel, and the only thing I had then was white-hot fury. All I wanted in the end was for her to take away the pain, and make it all go away.

Unfortunately, even doctors can’t perform miracles.

And if this concussion wasn’t gonna kill me, my time away from my fiery, orange-haired lass kicker would.

So it had been a rough couple of weeks by myself. It had been too overbearing and lonely to keep my thoughts to myself. Just thinking about the events that had happened to me since then filled me with anxiety. The loneliness was horrible, my stagnant condition more so. It was nothing, however, compared to how I felt after what Nattie told me. But that weird interaction between Bex and the two men, one of whom was our boss and big owner of a little ol’ company called WWE, left me with uncertainty. I couldn’t help but blame myself.

Perhaps the dragon suplex was too much for a match at a house show, especially with how often we were on the road during the year. Several possibilities had run through my mind that night. I was afraid that Vince had seen us perform it—which was more than likely given the conversation he and Bex were having.

I was worried at the time. What if he didn’t approve? What if he was angry?

And who was that other guy?

All I knew, however, was that I needed to talk to Vince about it. I wasn’t about to let Becky take all the blame, not when it was my fault for letting it happen.

I remember my feeling of helplessness, coupled with my confusion from the concussion. After all, we were a team. And didn’t I promise I’d always be her friend?

_But you just stood there and watched._

No matter what happened?

_You saw her cry._

Unlike with Vince however, I didn’t have to try and find her when the news got around some half-hour later. Word traveled fast in these parts. When she heard about my injury that same night, she dashed straight into the doctor’s office to find me.

“There you are!”

As excited and energetic as she can be sometimes, she knew when to be gentle with me. She had gone through so much with me to know when she could be gentle. She cupped my face carefully, wary of my condition. My vision was still blurry as hell, but I saw the familiar orange-fire hair hovering in my view. Just hearing her voice was enough to make me feel like I was home. So at home in fact that I felt myself choke a little at the stupid situation I was in, but mostly at how good she was with me. And how _good_ that felt.

“Hey Bex,” I swallowed what felt like a rock in my throat. I didn’t want to let her see me this way.

“Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” I chuckled, “Just bumped my head.” She always was so damn selfless. She hugged me close to her like she always did whenever I was in trouble. I let a shaky sigh escape me.

“Am I good, Dr. Elise?”

“Yes. Just make sure you have your escort help you gather your things to the car,” she said, snapping off her latex gloves. “I’ll let management know about your visit, then we’ll talk about when you can get back into the ring. Don’t expect it to be anytime soon, though. You’re going to need to rest for a bit.”

Bex furrowed her brows, and I knew where her thoughts were. I squeezed her hand, trying desperately to tell her that this wasn’t her blame to take. But I knew it would take more than that to convince her.

“Sorry, but do you mind if I have a moment to myself before I go?”

“Not at all, but keep it short,” she said. “I’ll be outside to let the escort know. Remember to take it nice and easy for a while. I’ll email your doctor as well about your recovery time.”

“Appreciate it, Doc. Thanks.”

She closed the door behind her. Once she left, Bex pulled up a chair beside me, rubbing the back of my hand in smooth circles. We sat quietly for a long time. Or so it felt, as I tried to remember several ways this could keep on going forever. But I was sure then as I am now that it had been mere minutes—perhaps seconds—that had elapsed before she spoke.

“Charlotte, I’m—”

“This wasn’t your fault,” I said.

“I don’t know what happened—”

“It was me. I fucked up.”

Bex looked up, confusion spreading on her face. I sighed, unsure of where to start. Or if I even should.

“I didn’t tuck my head. I felt distracted in the match. I just… I wasn’t myself.”  

“Are you alright?”

I wanted to nod to try and assuage her fears. But I froze. Her expression was still the same, the brown in her eyes studied my face so thoroughly. I was a bad liar, and Becky knew that. But I wasn’t about to say anything more about what had happened, especially when I was just as clueless myself.

“She told me,” I started, averting her question, “that it might take a month until I can come back into the ring. Maybe longer, who knows.”

“I thought so. Judging by what Nattie told me—”

“Nattie?”

“She told me you got injured,” she said. “It sounded like it was serious. I just wish I noticed when it happened.”

“Of course,” I muttered. “She probably told management, too.”

“What d’you mean?”

“Nobody knew about the concussion at first,” I sighed, running my hand through my hair, avoiding where that bump was on the back of my head. “I didn’t say anything to anyone at the time. I felt fine after the match. My head just hurts a little now. But Nattie overreacted, thought I was being careless, and— _ow!_ ”

Before I could even finish my sentence, Bex pinched me hard in the arm. Her face, once holding nothing but concern for me, now shifted into an overwhelming fire.

“Bex, what the hell? I’m already hurt—”

“You’re damn right it’s careless! You can’t ignore something like that!”

“I know, Bex—”

“I don’t think you do, Charlotte,” she said. “I worry for you too, ya know? I worry that you feel alone, and I worry that you won’t talk to me because you think it doesn’t concern me. But it does. A _whole_ lot more than you realize. Nevermind the fact that I constantly stress over your well-being twenty-five eight—”

“Twenty-five eight?”

“Twenty-five hours and eight days a week, of course. I’ll have you know that it’s a very important job aside from wrestling every night!”

I shook my head. “You’re too much.”

She huffed, and said, “Says the girl who made my head nearly explode after learning she was injured.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

She frowned, crossing her arms.

“I mean it, Bex,” I said. “I’m sorry you have to deal with me sometimes. It’s… not a fun job, I’m sure.”

She huffed, and muttered, “You can be so incorrigible sometimes.”

I looked up, and met her angry gaze. I felt the weight of a thousand suns behind those eyes.

“You’re more than worth it, you know,” she said. “How do you not realize that yet?”

“Becky...”

“Taking care of you is a job I’ll gladly take over and over again. You _matter_ to me.”  

I blinked at the statement, maybe too heavily at best. The words that were sitting in my mouth, edging centimeters away from a cliff, felt strange and uncomfortable for some reason, and they fell backwards in retreat. I couldn’t even tell her that I was grateful for her—for everything that she was to me. I felt stuck in place, like a dry summer day that felt endless and short all at the same time. I wanted to hold her and show her how much she meant to me, but my arms were heavy with a burden that couldn’t fathom the lengths I’d go for her.

These words that she had spilled. They were words that weren’t unfamiliar to me. In fact, I’ve heard words like these before, coming from her mouth, let loose freely and without restraint. This was just Becky being Becky.

A friend being a friend.

So why was this moment any different from the rest?

My headache returned, and my vision grew more out of focus.

What the hell was wrong with me?

 _Your concussion_ , a voice reminded me. _It’s your concussion._

And it put my troubled thoughts on hold.

“Anyway,” she said. “I almost forgot! Your carriage awaits you outside, and I should probably fetch ‘em for you—”

“Bex, wait.”

She stopped in her tracks, her hand on the door. I felt myself still caught with that rock in my throat. Uneasy to swallow, uneasy to ignore.

“I just needed to know… Nattie told me something, too—”

_Knock, knock._

“Ride’s here,” I heard someone say through the door.

 _Fuck_ , I thought.

Amidst my frustration, I had forgotten that Bex was still looking at me, concern washing her features.

“Nattie told you what?”

My thoughts had lingered for a moment, and my words weighed carefully on my tongue. But in the end, the words stayed where they were, heavy with time that we no longer had. I shook my head.

“It’s nothing. Nevermind.”

_Knock, knock!_

“Coming! Jesus.”

Becky furrowed her brows. She sighed.

“Okay.”

“Text me?”

“Of course,” she said. “Maybe I’ll stop by and visit soon.”

“Yeah,” I nodded numbly. “I’d like that.”

Bex smiled. Before she left, she crossed the room again and pressed her lips against my temple, and her warmth burned me.

Then she was out the door.

I sighed.

I put my hands over my face, trying hard not to cry. But the emotions felt hot and turbulent, threatening to overrun, and I was weak to give into them.

\

This kind of feeling was not uncommon to me, unfortunately. I could be an emotional wreck sometimes.

In fact, the last time I remember feeling this way was at the night of the party. Just after the network deal.

But it was only for a moment.

I was too busy drinking.

\

The party at the hotel we were staying at had been lively, perhaps too lively for my taste, and I knew that as soon as me and Bex had glammed up and arrived that I wanted to be anywhere but here. The feeling doubled when I saw Nattie hanging out near one of the booths. Bex knew that I was avoiding her and, although she didn’t ask why, heeded my wishes and took us straight to the bar area instead.

Of course, it was shitty of me to do. But there was some things I wasn’t in the mood to talk to ‘mom’ about. And I knew she would pry if there was even an opportunity for her to take. And with the way I’ve been avoiding everyone, it was best that I kept my distance especially from her.

“We’re not really talking right now,” I told Bex, and that had been the end of it.

My mind still lingered on that text I received from days ago, the one that prompted Becky to drag me here.

‘Free food and free drinks’, she said. ‘That’s all.’ But I knew she also wanted me to just let loose and have fun.

Except my mind continued to travel towards my ex for some reason. And that _stupid_ text he sent me.

I wanted so badly to burn it away with a flick of my hand, but things weren’t as ideal as they were in real life.

I remember cursing at myself for wearing my flimsy black evening gown. The room where the party was hosted in was chilly, especially for a summer night. Bex said we could have gone a bit more casual, but I had insisted on looking my best.

I guess looking my best didn’t necessarily mean I’d _be_ at my best, however.

Luckily, it was nothing that a good drink or two wouldn’t fix.

Bex had been more hesitant. She wasn’t usually one for drinking unless the night called for it, and even then ‘it was empty calories’, she’d say.

“But I’ll have one,” she said that night, hooking my pinkie with hers, “so you won’t be lonely.”

The TV deal that was made recently was a huge cause for celebration, and a celebration it was indeed. You could see lavish decorations litter the ceiling, the chandeliers jingle ever so slightly with the breeze that seeped in every now and then when a new attendee came into the room. Slowly, the room filled up, and so did my thoughts. Goosebumps on my skin rose each time I felt the air hit my skin. I had shivered against my better judgment, and Bex pulled her leather jacket closer around me.

I sighed, feeling like such a drag.

“Hey Becky! Charlotte!”

Before I could gather myself, the boisterous trio that was the New Day came bustling into the picture. Bex waved them over enthusiastically, and I plastered a smile on my face.

“You beautiful ladies are getting started, huh?” Xavier said with a goofy grin, noticing the drinks in our hands, and looking like he didn’t even need liquid courage to get the party started.

“Ah, you know us, always early,” Bex said, headbanging to a song too far away for me to hear. “Plus, we couldn’t wait for the life of the party!”

“Charlotte, better be careful with her. She might switch out the music and start a mosh pit.”

“Hey, I heard that, E!”

I blinked at what Xavier was carrying. “You brought your trombone, Creed?”

“Some execs from the Network wanted us to be in character for the night,” he rolled his eyes. “Who needs days off, right?”

“Who?” Kofi chimed in, with Big E joining until finally the room began buzzing with the word ‘who?’ for a solid minute.

I laughed. They never changed.

_Sounds like someone, huh?_

I stared deep into my empty glass, and I asked the bartender for another shot.

“Anyways,” Creed said, “we’re gonna go around and invite people to karaoke. I know Sasha has been dying to start. Wanna come?”

“I _suck_ at singing, Creed,” Bex said. “You know that.”

“You’re not that bad! I mean, you’ll have music to drown out your croaking,” he laughed. “Charlotte, you down?”

I really didn’t want to, to be honest. In fact, I hated the idea. It felt overwhelmingly stressful to be in front of everyone for some reason, and I felt like I suffocating in the dress I was wearing. On most days, I would have been fine. On some days, I would even be enjoying myself.

But tonight, I just wanted to stay at the bar, and drink myself away.

And I had planned to. At least, with Bex here.

But looking at her now, I could tell she wanted to move around a bit, even sing stupid karaoke songs that she didn’t recognize or could sing for the life of her. Except she had been overwhelmingly concerned for me, and I felt extremely selfish to want to hog her all night.

Not to mention, I was hardly in a mood to be pitied for.

“You should go, Bex.”

“What?”

“I’ll be here,” When I could tell that the answer didn’t suffice, I said, “Don’t worry about me.”

Bex hadn’t been entirely convinced to leave my side, but she got up anyway. Before I could take another shot of my tequila, Bex had taken it out of my hands and swung her head back. I rolled my eyes at her.

“Don’t get carried away just yet, Charlie. I’ll be back to get ya.”

With that, Bex and the rest of the guys moved on to the next crowd.

Except for Big E.

“You okay, Charlotte?”

“Yeah,” I said, clearing the burn in my throat. “Just gotta get in the mood.”

“You’re more than welcome to join us, you know.”

“I know,” I nodded. “I will. Thanks.”

He pulled me into a hug, and I willed myself not to cry in front of him, unless I wanted to make things worse than it already was.

But he had been kind, and all I wanted was for someone to understand.

To make the pain go away.

_I miss you._

I pulled myself away, just as I had pushed away my thoughts, keeping them safe and stored in a box that didn’t need to be opened anymore.

“It’s alright to forget the world, Charlotte. Even for just a night.”

\

After my third shot, the room was starting to get comfortably fuzzy, and the night was becoming mine to rule again.

It was a feeling that was not unlike meeting a stadium full of fans and eager watchers. Like an intoxicating aroma, I drank it in, literally and figuratively.

But like all things in my life, it had come at an inconvenient time.

It was my phone that startled me, ringing and buzzing with a distinct ringtone, louder to me than anything in this room filled with strobe lights and booming music.

It was him.

_Fuck._

My hand hovered over the screen. I would have been able to see my reflection if I could, but his name obscured all sense of myself. The letters that spelled his name were white, almost bolded but not quite. Big and looming, but not as scary as it would be for some onlooker. Another person would have looked at it and said, ‘What the hell kind of name is that?’

Another would ask, ‘Is that your friend?’

‘A boyfriend of yours?’

‘Aren’t you going to answer?’

I stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity.

His name was just a fingertip away.

I sighed.

To hell with my sanity.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” I heard him breathe, a cackled static distorting his voice slightly.

“Hi.”

“You sound like you’re at a party.”

“I am.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother.”

“...”

“Ash?”

“It’s… fine.”

“Oh, okay.”

But it wasn’t fine.

And my fingers curled inwards, and I could swear I felt my dress protest in a choke because that was how hard I balled it into a fist until it couldn’t breathe and couldn’t feel and couldn’t see and couldn’t cry and—

_No._

“Ash, I wanna talk to you...”

To hear it again, to feel that _echo_ again, like an echo of myself that I refused to go back to.

“About my text message. I…”

I had heard enough.

“Actually, Bram, I don’t think it’s fine.”

“What?”

“I don’t wanna hear it again.”

Even with the music blaring, it paled in comparison to how loud my heart was beating. I was never brave, but I could be defiant, and I would settle with that for now.

“Please—”

“I’m sorry.”

And I hung up.

But my hand was still balled in a fist. My head was filled with an iridescent anger that seemed to glow brighter and brighter, just like the lights above me.

And just as the smallest, sharpest prick from nails into skin seemed to wake me up, so did my sudden restlessness.

I smoothed my dress once more.

I had moved myself to the dance floor, initially to look for my friends. But the rhythm that the night had presented for me was too easy to pass up. I had grown confident once again, my arms swaying just as the world had done, and yet careful not to spill the extra alcohol swishing warmly in my glass.

This was going to be _my_ night. It had to be.

Some idiot had disagreed, apparently.

“You look awfully lonely tonight.”

A handsome, ambitious man in a suit had greeted me, just as I was about to get up and meet the others. The outer edges of my vision was blurry against the backdrop of the sparkling lights and soft chatter, but the man in the center of my vision still gleamed clearly at the surface. His teeth were just as bold.

“Oh. Wow,” I started. He looked like an important man, but I hadn’t been interested in the least bit, even if he was quite the looker. Even if I couldn’t help but stare just a _tiny_ bit to gauge his features.

“Let’s dance.”

The statement had thrown me off, even after he had taken my hand and pulled me towards him, alcohol sloshing onto my hand, and a roughness to his contradictory smooth exterior that seemed to say he didn’t care whether my answer was yes or no.

I could tell he was on something, too.

I wanted to protest until I felt myself dragged the other way, a hand much similar to mine pulling me away from the ambitious man.

“Eff off, man! Yeah, I’m talking to _you!_ Well, screw you, too!”

Suddenly, I was back at the bar again, my savior sitting across from me.

“You okay, Charlie?”

“Yeah,” I said, blinking incredulously. “Shit.”

“Jesus, the nerve on that guy. Here, lemme take that.”

Becky took my half-empty glass.

“You can imagine how karaoke went. Sorry, I should have come for you sooner. We should probably go.”

“No. Wait, Bex.”

“Huh?”

“Let’s stay.”

She looked sideways at me. I sighed.

“He called me.”

“Who?”

I shook my head, trying not to spill my emotions just like I did with my drink.

“Bram?”

I nodded, but there would be no more time to waste.

Not one minute.

“I just want to forget about it. Please, Bex. Just for tonight.”

“But… are you sure, Charlotte?”

“You and me,” I said, taking back my glass. Confidence re-emerging once more. “We’re gonna have fun. Isn’t that you told me?”

She sighed, but smiled anyway. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“So let’s do it. Hey, bartender!”

She wavered, if only for two or three seconds, before saying, “Fuck it,” and clapping her hands together. Perhaps that was my effect on her, but it didn’t matter.

Not anymore.

“But we’re gonna stick together, though,” she said. “Like gum on concrete. No more weirdos.”

“Don’t worry,” I said, fueled by liquor and a certain desire to scratch this night off as a conquest. “You’ll be my only weirdo tonight.”

She rolled her eyes, and nudged my knee. “Says you.” She took the new drink in her hand.

I winked at her.

“To us weirdos.”

“Cheers.”

\

One too many drinks.

That’s how much we drank.

All throughout the night, we were laughing and eating. And dancing and dancing. Some might have noticed, others may have joined in. But the only thing I could recall was Becky being by my side.

Holding my hand, as I held onto hers. Trying so hard not to get lost again.

But I realize now when I look back, that it had been too late.

I had already been lost in this night of ours.

The liquor continued to come in waves, and then some.

“I’m gonna be so sick in the morning, I just know it.”

“I’ve got you, babe.”

I could feel some eyes on us and for one hot second I wanted to crawl back under a rock, desperate to rid thoughts of me on their minds. Some of those faces belonged to those I had been avoiding. Like Nattie.

Had we been doing anything wrong?

I looked down at my hands now. They were suddenly around Bex’s waist, and she was leaning back against me.

Maybe it had just been me that was paranoid.

But when I glanced over her shoulder, all of that had dissipated into air. Her eyes were closed, but she was smiling—and I could tell she was still awake.

My lazy eyes traveled across the room, glaring at those I thought were too curious to mind their own business, and stared dully against the backdrop of doubt.

In fact, I could have set fire on anything that moved—if I really wanted to. But instead, I nudged Bex with my nose. “Are you uncomfortable?”

She shook her head. “No, but I have an idea. If you wanna come with me.”

“Yes.”

She got up from my lap, an eagerness bursting forth in a grin. “Let’s go.”

Maybe we were having too much fun.

Maybe this was a mistake.

But by then, I didn’t care.

I followed her where she went.

\

“Come on!”

Giggling, I came upstairs, stilettos hanging off my fingertips.

“Is this the top floor?”

“Should be. Have to find roof access, though.”

I laughed, “We’re gonna get in so much trouble, Bex.”

“Nah.”

She took my hand in hers, and pushed an uncertain door open.

We met the open cold air. A chilly breeze enveloped us, but nothing that a little bit of adventure couldn’t handle.

The city lights, after all, were enough to keep us captivated.

“Oh, wow.”

“Right?”

Dazzling and shimmering lights off the distance came in every different color. Mountains hugged the horizon and fell back as they sat in darkness, with wispy grey-white clouds creeping in between the hills. It was the buildings, however, that stood defiantly against the natural world below. They too sat back in high-rise proportions, coming together in many and all sorts of sizes, with billboards and neon lights sprouting from the tops of them. But none of them were high enough to reach the sky as we had.

Not a single one.

The tallest building in the city definitely had its perks, alright.

“Jesus,” Bex breathed, “All this traveling around makes me forget how good we have it sometimes.” She leaned against the balcony, admiring the view.

I did the same.

And woo’d rather loudly.

“Holy shit. Don’t scare me like that, Charlotte!”

A series of giggles escaped me, which only infuriated her more.

“You’re horrible.”

“I’m anything but. We’re on top of the world! Try it, Bex.”

“Woo!”

“Louder.”

“WOO!”

“Louder!”

“ _WOOOOOO!_ —ah, fuck!” She coughed in a fit. “I’m gonna die.”

I rubbed her back soothingly. We heard contagious woo’s travel across the hotel, followed by laughter from another party some floors below us. The street welcomed the friendly atmosphere, and so did the night.

“You know,” I said, “this is probably as good as it’ll get.”

Bex, in her tipsy state, lightly shrugged, “Maybe, but we have the whole world in our hands. We can rule it if we wanted to. Don’t you think, Queenie?”

I smirked, “I’m a queen with no control of her life.”

“Yeah, you’re some queen, alright.”

I pursed my lips, and she put a hand on my shoulder.

“Bad joke. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re right. I’m just being...” I looked up, glaring out into the dark sky. I sighed. “I’m just fucking tired. And I just wish we had more time to do this.”

“Do what?”

“This. Everything.”

We sat in silence for a while, just admiring the view. But I wished so badly it would stay like this forever.

It hadn’t been something I felt in a while, and I wondered how long it had been since I had done something nice for myself for a change.

“Charlie, we have all the time in the world.”

Bex blew a cold sigh into the air, and it stuck in the air mindlessly. “We always do, even when we don’t.”

Her eyes followed mine—and I realized in this shallow, empty space between us that wasn’t really fair to begin with—that I had been staring at her.

“Ashley,” she said, and the usage of _that_ name—coming from her own lips—stung me for some reason. As though it short-circuited me for just the tiniest second, and my body had trouble rebooting itself. “You still care about him, huh?”

I looked down.

Bex wore her usual smile, but it glimmered softly, like a faraway star that could only keep up for so long until the morning came. Maybe, and perhaps, it had been the dawning of a new—but old—realization. “Don’t worry. It’s alright.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but it was fruitless, like the pull of gravity against objects that never strayed too far from the ground when they were thrown. Ceaselessly and forever bringing them back to Earth. Again and again, and again.

“Well, granted, it sucks. But I know how hard it is.”

“Bex, I don’t know if anybody really does.”

“Wanna bet?”

She reassured me with a gentle smile, and I remembered immediately of her own ordeals when it came to relationships, too. We had a knack for that, I guess.

“Sorry. I mean, I’m in the best place in my life, technically. And I’m hung over some dude who, not only did he cheat on me, but treated me like shit, too. And I was doing just fine without him for a time. Got my life together, stopped acting like a brat for my own sake. And it was good. Everything was _good_.

“But like all the crap in my life, I kind of tumble down with it.” I shrugged, “Why? Why do I keep doing this to myself?”

Bex rubbed the back of her head.

“For once, I’d like to learn from my mistakes.”

“Nobody’s perfect, lass.”

“I know, Bex. I know. But...”

_BUZZ._

“Goddammit.”

“What? It’s not him again, is it?”

“If it is, I swear to God, Bex. I will throw my phone off this building.”

_BUZZ._

I searched through my purse blindly. Bex took it upon herself to admire the bottle she had gotten from the bar earlier—which I needed to remind her that she had _stolen,_ in fact. She waved it at me. I rolled my eyes, more so at how troublesome my bag was being. But after some digging, I finally managed to whip out my phone.

I blinked at the screen.

_Text Message - Bram_

I looked at Bex.

Bex stared wide-eyed at me.

But it was a beat too late.

“No, wait—Charlotte, don’t!”

The phone flew from my hand.

We watched as it traveled far. And far. And farther still.

Until it disappeared into some bushes, almost and most certainly broken beyond repair.

“Crap.”

“You sure dialed that in.”

I glanced at her. She did the same.

We both laughed.

“I hope I remember to get that in the morning.”

“Doubtful, but I’ll remind you.”

“You’re as drunk as I am. Bex.”

“Yep,” she giggled.

“At least I don’t have to worry about it now.”

The breeze had enveloped us tightly together. It was starting to get cold again, and Bex rubbed my sides for warmth.

She had been good to me, as she always had been.

It made me curious about how she had _really_ been, though. In all honesty, I hadn’t really spoken to her as much as I had liked since being MIA with everyone. It was unfair, of course, and I knew it had been, especially for her. But nothing had changed between us. In fact, we had been hanging out as we had before—as though nothing was wrong. And for that, I had been grateful.

But it was at the cost of being apart from her, of feeling down and out, of feeling like I was a terrible best friend. And leaving her behind in the dust like that, spoke volumes about who I was as a person.

But I couldn’t admit that I was being selfish. Just as I had always been.

It never felt as necessary as it did then, however. She was there for me, as I was for her. And I knew that she knew that.

But the night was still young, and I’d eventually be at its whim yet.

“Bex,” I started, “I haven’t even asked how you’ve been.”

“Ah,” she waved it off. “Same old, same old.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.”

“Trust me, lass. You haven’t missed a thing. Typical crush going downhill.”

“Really?”

“Really. You know it’s insane how shit our love lives are. Wasn’t too long ago I had been in your same boat.”

“I’m sorry, Bex.”

She shrugs. “You’re right though, you know. We’re in the best place in our lives. And it still isn’t enough.”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, hell, we’re beautiful, aren’t we?”

“Yep.”

“We’re strong, independent women.”

“We kick ass.”

“ _And_ we kick ass. For a living, too!”

“I mean, Bex, that could be the reason why our love lives suck so much.”

“Yeah!—I mean, yeah. Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“But that shouldn’t stop anybody, right? We’re good people.”

I nodded.

“We’re kind and caring.”

“Absolutely.”

“And I’m a great fucking _person!_ ” She yelled off the high tops. “So where is the love?”

I was amused at this point. She gestured wildly at me, then towards the space in front of us, over the buildings and across the horizon. “Where, Charlotte?”

“Bex,” I laughed. “I think I’m starting to believe that we’re just better off alone.”

“But sometimes,” she continued, “I would just like to kiss someone, ya know? Someone I like who also likes me back and we can just be alone and have fun because we’re happy and vice versa. That's all I’m saying.” She said, hands up defensively. “Don’t you?”

“I guess.”

“Just being able to grab their faces and kiss them senselessly.”

“Yeah, well, been there and done that.”

“I mean, with a good person.”

“Well, Bex,” I laughed, “we’re good people. I could kiss you right now if it’ll shut you up.”

“Ha ha, funny,” she said, and for some reason it emboldened me, more so than it had stung me, even if it was by a small margin. Just by a little.

But life didn’t typically grab itself by the balls. Nor did it stop anyone from taking said balls.

The liquor may as well have played a part in it, too.

So naturally, I stirred the pot a little.

“Soooo,” I started, “I’m not a good person?”

“What? No. I mean—yes. You are.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, if you wanna kiss someone _so_ bad…”

“Charlotte Flair, what the hell.”

“I’m just saying—”

“Jesus Christ, if this is you flirting again—”

“Me? Flirting?”

“—Then I’m gonna slap the head off your shoulders.”

“But not before you kiss me, right?” I wagged my eyebrows for good measure.

Becky paused, and for a moment I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I was having way too much fun. More so than I needed to be having, maybe. Especially with Bex. Even now as I look back at that moment.

And remember the contours of her face. Wisps of her orange-fire hair blowing into the breeze like clouds over mountains.

My mind—the one that spoke rationale to me—was in a stupor. Gone and far away. My surroundings felt oh so wonderfully hazy. The chill became almost nonexistent. But my statement still hung in the air.

And it fell heavy with intent.

What happened next was unthinkable.

We had both moved, slowly but surely, towards one another. I couldn’t imagine what had overcome me—what had overcome her, but mostly me—as I leaned down and pressed myself against her softly.

She was so warm.

It felt natural, like the world below us, that our lips would come together as briefly as it did.

It was almost as though it didn’t happen.

But when I pulled away gently, all I could see was her eyes. And her face so close to mine.

Our laughter had suddenly ceased.

It took me a moment—I had never been one to stutter—but I knew I would fuck this up if I didn’t at least say something, _anything_. “Becky, I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Can you do that again?”

For some reason, she didn’t need to ask twice.

I was on automatic. I pulled her in closer, reveling in the contact, the warmth of it all—until our breaths hitched and she was suddenly grasping at my sides.

We were still too far away.

It hadn’t taken us long to get to her room. The floor she had been staying at was only a couple of floors down. In between kisses and breaths we had traveled downstairs. But when we had arrived and the door clicked shut, I had taken it upon myself to try and say something. But she had beat me to it.

“Ashley—”

I hugged her, and suddenly it became clear that I was right where I was supposed to be.

“I want you.”

She gave me only a gentle reminder, that I hadn’t been the only one.

“Then show me.”

\

When I would wake up in the morning, I would feel sick, trying to look for a phone that I no longer had.

When I would wake up after the night, I would forget all of this had even happened, just like the nameless streets that echoed revelry.

But I never would have thought it’d be so damn hard to try.

//

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to my readers who have stuck with me throughout this story so far. I appreciate every single one of you. Also, I take constructive criticism! So let me know in the comments what you think so far, or if you're shy, send me an ask or message via Tumblr at stonecoldbex.tumblr.com. 
> 
> Obviously this fic will go further past the three-chapter limit that I set up for this story originally, so stay tuned!
> 
> Edit: Also, the fun begins. If things were a little slow for y'all, I'm about to kick it up into high gear. Please be aware that this fic *may* change its rating soon!


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